


Sweeter in the Afterglow

by spacegaysians (llord_nakcorevas)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Bottom Baze, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pre-Canon, Top Chirrut, also the world needs a lil more of this:, and married, basically they're sappy and gay and in love, definitely married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:37:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/llord_nakcorevas/pseuds/spacegaysians
Summary: Baze is not soft. He’s devout, he’s jaded, he’s a husband, he’s a killer… Baze is a lot of things. But he is not soft.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first hand at a Chirrut/Baze story. Hope you enjoy it! Check me out on [tumblr](https://spagaysian.tumblr.com/)

Baze is not soft. He’s devout, he’s jaded, he’s a husband, he’s a killer… Baze is a lot of things. But he is not soft.

Except for now, in the dark with Chirrut pressed against his back, he might feel a little bit mushy around the edges. That’s the kind of effect Chirrut has always had on him, starting from when they first met. Granted, they were both still soft when they met. Young, faithful, heads full of a future and a fantasy. But even then, Chirrut somehow managed to make everything sweeter, calmer. More like the world Baze wants to live in.

And he does want to live in Chirrut. He wants to wrap himself up in the serenity of his clouded eyes. He wants to bury his hands in Chirrut’s short hair. He wants to spend forever in the ever aging laugh lines. He wants to keep his hand in Chirrut’s for the rest of his life and never let go. He wants a lot of things that have to do with Chirrut. That doesn’t make him soft, he reasons. It makes him a husband. A loving, devoted husband who would do anything to see his partner smile.

Baze is hardened, bitter. A man who has seen too much. A man who has next to nothing. A man who right now has Chirrut’s arms around him and Chirrut’s burning breath at the back of his neck, taking him apart from the inside out. And that - that is _everything_.

Chirrut is silent, mostly. He’s buried to the hilt in Baze’s ass and all he lets out is the occasional puff of air. It’s infuriating, really. Because layered over Chirrut’s gentle breaths are Baze’s rough moans and broken cries of pleasure.

“Baze,” Chirrut coos.

Gentle, always so gentle. Baze moans in response and feels rather than hears Chirrut’s quiet laugh.

“Baze, my love. Tell me how it feels.”

“You know how it feels,” he manages to grit out as Chirrut continues the lazy roll of his hips. “Or shall I return the favor as I did the other night?”

“Oh, no need for that. I remember just fine how it feels to me. I’ve lost my sight, but I’ve not yet lost my mind. But I want to know how it feels for _you_.”

_For you._

This thing that Chirrut does, this testament to love, is for him. _For him_. For _Baze_. He bites back a low groan. Chirrut is solid against him, twisting his mind and most definitely his tongue; he doesn’t think he can describe anything at the moment. But Baze is devoted. Baze is a husband. Baze is a devoted husband and so he grapples for the words.

“It feels…hot. There is sweat between us and it pulls at my skin like a warm mist or the way Jedha sounds when it wakes up. Your mouth is sweet and easy like an oasis in the desert. Your measured breaths feel like eyelashes against parchment. You fill me up like water, or like a burning coal in the center of my chest. It’s like I am complete. Do you remember how the kyber felt when we traded our vows in the caverns of the temple? That is how you feel. Only this time it comes from within my heart in this little place where I keep us. It feels like I’m on fire and the force is on fire and you are consuming me from the inside out. It feels beautiful.”

“ _You_ are beautiful,” Chirrut whispers, quiet enough that Baze figures he wasn’t supposed to hear. But he did hear. And now Chirrut is fucking into him at a fast and steady pace, chasing release for both of them, and all he can do is claw at the sheets and repeat Chirrut’s name like a mantra. Chirrut’s long fingers wrap around his cock and jerk him off in time with his thrusts, pushing him toward the edge. Baze cries out, loud and unabashed, and Chirrut comes at the exact same time as him.

Baze is not religious, but he thinks he feels epiphany in Chirrut’s embrace.

Later, Baze murmurs something like a prayer, something that starts and ends with _you’re sweet_ against the top of Chirrut’s head where he’s tucked against his chest. Chirrut laughs and tilts his head up to gaze lovingly at the spot a little left of Baze’s ear.

Baze is a lot of things. He’s rough, he’s wise, he’s patient, he’s strong. But above all else, Baze is loved.


End file.
